He is the Meister
by Worlds of Reality
Summary: A Meister who has survived his whole life away from Death City has forsaken his life of normality for the hard rough and tumble existence of a Meister at the DWMA. A Meister Maka can't help but like, even though his arrival spells disaster for them all.
1. Chapter 1

**He is the Meister**

**By Worlds of Reality**

**1: DWMA**

**He was a Meister away from Death City. He never asked for his skills. He never asked for his duty. No one else in his family knew of these skills, or of his responsibilities. He tried to hide this from everyone, even himself. He pretended that he was normal. It worked for some time. But then he realized that he was putting people in danger. The people he cared about, just by being with them he was putting all of them in danger.**

**His name is Samuel Phillip McCabe. He is the Meister.**

The sun was starting to set when he finally managed to get to Death City. The desert wind blew hot air and into his face, tossing his hair all around his head. It would've gotten into his eyes, but his had taken the precaution of wearing swimming goggles.

The entrance to Death City was a high, vaulted archway. He walked quickly under it, pulling off his goggles, spared at last from the harsh desert conditions. He could feel the grip of exhaustion come over him but he fought it and staggered away.

He had to find somewhere to sit, if only for a few minutes. He just needed to rest his legs. He walked over to a basketball court and spotted a bench. He collapsed onto it, his eyes already closing.

He remained like that for a while. Asleep. He was woken however by the sound of a ball pounding on the courts tarmac flooring. He jolted as he heard people voices and he fell straight off the bench, landing painfully on the ground.

He rolled over and staggered to his feet. He looked around and saw the group of people cornering the wall. Fighting exhaustion he forced himself to walk. His feet felt like lead and his eyes just as heavy.

He stumbled and reached a hand out for the wall. He bent double, taking in deep, hollow breaths. When he heard the conversation stop he knew that they had spotted him. He had expected it. He wasn't dressed as a normal person would. Brown frayed travelling cloak, black hair flecked with sand, and black jeans just visible under the cloak.

"Hey you!" yelled a voice. He looked back, barely just managing to stay stood up.

There were seven of them, the majority girls.

It was a boy who he thought had yelled however. The spiky, blue-haired short boy at the front. Orange vest and grey shorts were what he wore and his hair was stuck up, looking rather like a star. He frowned. Had he imagined it or had he seen a star on the boys right shoulder?

The boy spoke again.

"Yo! You know how to play basketball?" the boy yelled.

He smiled.

'At least I'll be in good company,' he thought.

As he though this, his legs gave out. He crumpled to a heap as he heard their footsteps rushing towards him. His head slammed onto the ground and darkness filled his vision.

When he came to, light was the first thing that he noted. Lots of light. He hissed, like a cat, and shielded his eyes with his right hand. When he had grown used to the light he looked up. He was in a hospital bed. He ran a hand through his hair. Clean and washed. He smiled. He disliked being dirty.

He sat up and stretched out. He looked down. He was wearing a stupid green and white hospital gown. Rolling his eyes at how pathetic and helpless the garb made him look he turned his gaze on the rest of the room.

Nobody was there. The room was disserted. His eyes narrowed at a computer. The screen was bright and still bright. He looked over at the door. It stood slightly ajar.

Clearly someone had left this room recently, perhaps moments before he had awakened. He slipped his legs out of bed and pulled back the green medical curtain, separating himself from the rest of the world. There he bobbed down and found his old clothes underneath the bed.

He pulled on his boxers before flinging the green gown away. He hated being naked for any longer than he had to be. He pulled on the black jeans he had been wearing before he had blacked out and grabbed the travelling cloak. He screwed it into a ball and put it on top of the hospital gown. He slipped on a blue short sleeved button-up shirt from his backpack that he had carried with him and pulled on some socks.

The door opened as he was slipping on some grey-black converses.

"I see you're awake then," muttered a voice from the other side of the curtain.

He jumped. He hadn't been expecting a woman's voice.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I am," he said. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Are you decent or should I wait a little bit?" asked the voice.

"You can pull the curtains back if you want," he said.

She did so. He raised an eyebrow at the woman behind the curtains. But no more than that. She was dark skinned, he could see that. Barely. Her whole body was wrapped in white bandages. Black hair poked out from over the top of the bandages in thick curls.

"I take it you're the nurse?" he said.

She nodded.

He opened his mouth to say something, but a knock on the door cut him off.

"Come in," said the nurse.

The door opened and a group of three people walked in. Two girls and a boy. The first girl had a tall thin figure. She wore a long black coat and had a yellow jumper underneath. She wore a plaid skirt and a white blouse was visible underneath the jumper. Her green eyes glimmered as she saw him and there was a slight frown on her lips.

The second girl was as tall as the first, and dressed exactly the same. In fact if it weren't for the discoloration of her hair and the darker skin tone, they would be identical.

The boy was holding the second girls hand, smiling slightly. His hair was spiky silver and his eyes were a blood red. He wore a white t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. His jeans were a light blue and held up by a white belt. He guessed that the girl and boy were a couple, or at the very least 'just friends'.

"Hey," said the first girl. "You seem… better."

He waved a hand.

"Nothing wrong with me in the first place," he said. "Just completely shattered."

The girl raised an eyebrow.

"What? I was!" he said. "I'd been walking to Death City for over fifteen days straight! You're telling me that you've never been shattered after walking that far for that long?"

The girl smiled and scratched at the back of her head.

"No of course not," she said, laughing nervously. "I just never met anyone that determined."

The other girl smiled, cheesily. Big wide grin with teeth filling the whole space. It was rather disturbing.

"He's cute Maka," said the girl. The boy spluttered.

"Get a grip Soul," said the girl, ('Maka?') barely giving him a moments notice.

"So what's your name?" asked the girl, still with the cheesy smile plastered across her face.

"Sam," he said. "Samuel Phillip McCabe."

"Cool," said the girl. "You've got the same name as my adoptive big bro."

"Yeah, well Sam's a popular name where I come from," he said. "And what's your name?"

As she was about to say, the boy ('Soul?') cut across.

"She's taken so don't try it," he said quickly.

"Wasn't thinking about," Sam said. "I was asking her name because where I come from I was taught an amazing thing called 'manners.'"

Soul growled but the girl laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm Sarah," she said. "Don't mind Soul, he woke up early this morning so he's grouchy."

Sam smiled and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"I take it you guys brought me here huh?"

"Yeah," Maka said nodding. She might have been aware of it, but her cheeks were tinged with pink.

"Well, thanks for that, but I need to get to the DWMA A.S.A.P."

"You're already there," said Maka smiling at his ignorance.

"Ah. Right. In which case I need to see Lord Death A.S.A.P."

Sarah looked at Maka.

"Maka me and Soul need to see Papa Stein," she said, sliding her arm around Soul's. "Could you take Sam-kun to Lord Death?"

This seemed to make Maka blush an even brighter shade of pink. She gulped then tried to force a smile. It looked more like she had toothache.

"Uh, s-s-sure," she stuttered. "I-I'll take him, s-s-sure."

She turned quickly and walked out the room. Sam straightened up and walked after her. When he left Maka was already a few yards up the corridor. He sighed and walked swiftly after her.

She looked around and squeaked instantly as she saw he had levelled her in only a few strides.

"Do you act this way around all guys or is it just me?" Sam asked smiling. Maka looked at him scowling, but with the pink haze still over her cheeks all it did was make her seem exceptionally cute.

"N-no," she snapped. "I don't act this way at all around guys."

He could tell she was making an effort not to stutter as he replied evenly, "So how come you're acting like this now? Your soul suggests you're normally a level-headed calm person who enjoys a good book."

"You can see my soul that clearly?" she asked.

Sam smiled and nodded.

"In case you're wondering, I also enjoy reading. It's a good past time that doesn't make noise or annoys other people… except when you do it at social functions."

Unintentionally, Maka bumped elbows with Sam. Instantly Maka saw flashes of memory, and other images. Sam, lying in bed, reading by lamplight. A classroom filled with teenagers. Pulsing blue souls. A bright solid purple sphere.

Maka found herself sitting on the floor, back pressed against the corridor wall. Sam was knelt in front of her, eyes concerned, hands pressed on her cheeks.

"Jesus Christ I am _so_ sorry," he said. "That, happens sometimes. It's nothing harmful I swear to god. It's just a basic download of information via soul wavelengths. It's accidental every time I swear!"

"It's… it's ok," Maka said slowly getting steadily to her feet.

"You sure?" Sam asked, placing a steadying hand on Maka's back.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Maka mumbled. "Come on. You're the one who wanted to see Lord Death."

"Ok," muttered Sam. "Just as long as you're fine. Some people throw up after a soul download."

"I can see why," Maka muttered. Her head was spinning after the sudden download of information. Most of the information showed random images of Sam, or images of classrooms or other places, several times a word leapt out at her. A single word, repeated over and over, but the letters were fuzzy, smudged.

"You sure you're ok?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Maka said. "Come on let's go."

And she stalked off. Sam followed at a slower pace. He pressed a hand to his forehead. He was used to other people downloading information about him via a soul download, but it had never been a two-way process. He looked at Maka. This girl was something different.

**First of all, Sarah Albarn belongs to webidolchiu94 and is an OC from her amazing fanfiction, My Destiny, My Fervent Plea and I did ask if I could use her for this fanfiction. However I strongly recommend that you read her works as well.**

**Second, I know he's only mentioned briefly, but I did ask my good friend the Lord of All Chaos for the use of his OC, Samuel Franken Stein from his fanfics Soul Eater: My Way: and My Way Soul Eater: End of the World. Both are really good stories and I recommend that you read them.**

**And finally please do review and add this story to your favourites, it's not much at the moment I know but it's a working progress.**

**Oh, P.S: Samuel Phillip McCabe is a made up person, **_**not**_** my real name! Don't get confused and start calling me Sam!**


	2. Chapter 2

**He is the Meister**

**By Worlds of Reality**

**2: Death**

Maka stood beside a large black door. A skull was marked near the top. Sam walked up beside her and cocked his head.

"Well, here we are," Maka said rather uselessly.

Sam smiled.

"Yeah, I guess we are," he said. They stood there for a few minutes. "So, what do, I just knock or what?"

Maka rolled her eyes and wrapped smartly on the door of the Death Room. It swung open without a squeak. Sam nodded in appreciation and stepped through. Maka waited two seconds, then followed.

Sam smiled as she followed. He wondered briefly if she was looking at his soul. Then pushed that thought out of his head as he saw the archways. The guillotines were sharp, pointed and gleamed in the sun of the room.

He looked around him. The walls appeared not to exist, instead rolling white clouds and blue skies made up a limitless space. But stranger still, windows were set in random places high above.

He looked up, nearly blinded by a circular disc. The sun he guessed, though he had never seen a sun that didn't laugh. He smiled. The sun seemed pleasant on his skin, and although he had never been here before, it felt like he was at home.

"Well, well, well. Long time no see huh?" said a high pitched, comical voice. Sam looked around. He smiled in recognition at the figure standing there.

"Lord Death," he said smiling, stepping up to the same level as the Grim Reaper. "Nice to see you again after all this time."

Death drew breath to say something, but a second figure appeared from behind a gold chair. His skin was deathly pale, his eyes a golden amber. He wore a black suit with a death mask forming the tie of his crisp white dress shirt. His black hair had three horizontal white stripes running through the left hand side.

"And you mean again because?" Death the Kid muttered.

"You know that's what I was going ask Kid," snapped Maka.

Death and Sam stared at each other.

"You know after all these years you should really be dead," Death told him, leaning to his left.

"I understand that," Sam replied. "But I'm not, and that's all that counts. I'm here, I'm alive and I'm ready."

"I can see that," Death agreed. "And I can see that you're ready, all be it late."

Sam smiled.

"So when exactly have you two met?" Kid asked.

_Nine years ago_

_Ten-year-old Samuel Phillip McCabe stood in front of a full length mirror. Death stood in the reflection, an image of the Death Room clearly visible. A small five year old toddler with black hair and three white stripes horizontal over the left-hand-side, was running about, dressed in black pyjamas with skull patterns._

"_N-O spells no Death," Sam snapped._

"_But, you don't have a Weapon, or any basic training," Death argued. "You can't stay away from the DWMA on your own. I-I doubt you can even manipulate your own soul wavelength."_

_Sam sighed and tilted his palm upwards._

"_Soul Sphere."_

_A small spark hovered above Sam's upturned palm. From there it blossomed into a football sized sphere. With an over arm swing, the ball flew from his grasp and sank into the surface of the mirror. Death slid aside as the soul ball sailed through the mirror on the other side and splintered the first guillotine it came into contact with._

"_I think that it's fair enough to say I can look after myself," Sam snapped._

_Death, and the image of the Death Room, faded to nothing._

_Present Day_

"I guess you were right," Death said. "You could handle yourself."

Sam smiled.

"But seeing as though you're here at the academy, you'll need a Weapon partner."

Sam shrugged.

"I'm not so fussed. I've been alive for nineteen years without a Weapon, I can survive without one for a while longer."

"Well I don't think you'd have to wait that long," Maka said. Sam looked back at her. "And why's this?"

"We have a few Weapons without partners here at the Academy, is what Maka's trying to say," Death explained.

Sam shrugged again.

"Like I said I'm not bothered."

Death and his son looked at each other. Kid's eyes widened, then narrowed, his lip curling upwards in a smile.

"Oh I think you will be when you see them," Death said, turning back to face Sam.

**Yeah if you didn't work it out, Sam P. McCabe is nineteen.**


End file.
